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ULYSSES S. GRANT 



ADDRESS BY HON. LOUIS A. COOLIDGE 

Before the Middlesex Club, Boston 
April 27, 1917 



PRINTED BY THE CLUB 



ULYSSES S. GRANT 

ADDRESS BY HON. LOUIS A. COOLIDGE BEFORE THE 
MIDDLESEX CLUB, BOSTON, APRIL 27, 1917. 



Just what the qualities may be which give men rank with the 
immortals is likely to remain a mystery elusive as immortality 
itself. Some who have rendered noble service to humanity mean 
hardly more to us than numbers in a catalogue, while others of no 
greater seeming merit are clad in an imperishable glow. Among 
men grouped as equals in their day, one may become endowed in 
retrospect with flaming attributes not seen by those who knew 
him in the flesh, while all the rest soon shed such flickering glory 
as they had. The reason why, we do not understand. We can- 
not guess how myths originate or heroes grow. 

Why Lincoln, who by most of his contemporaries was not 
thought to be cast in an heroic mould, should in a little while have 
towered so far above them all as to be classed among the world's 
divinities, would without doubt have puzzled him as it has puzzled 
some of us who venerate his name. 

And so with Grant, who never thought to clothe himself in 
fame yet who in spite of his own modesty looms ever taller in the 
eye of time. Around his name no mystic legends cluster ; his 
memory exhales no subtle charm ; upon his brow no halo lies ex- 
cept the halo of hard fought success ; an unpretending man who 
played a chief part in the world's affairs, with the whole world 
looking on, yet so indifferent to praise or blame as to be quite un- 
conscious of its stare. 



No man who ever gained renown was ever more the sport of 
chance. No character in history has achieved supreme success in 
war or the supreme reward of politics who owed less to his own 
ambition or design. A still and simple citizen, accustomed mostly 
to the ways of unkempt Western towns, ungifted with imagination, 
indifferent to the general stir of things, and barely equal to the 
task of furnishing his family such modest comforts as the neigh- 
bors had, he was untouched even by evanescent liking for a mili- 
tary life up to the moment when he flashed across the vision of 
the world — the greatest captain of his time. 

And when with war in retrospect he would have been 
content to live in quiet contemplation of his strange career, un- 
skilled in politics, untutored in the art of government, he was com- 
pelled by force of circumstance for eight eventful years to occupy 
the highest civil place his countrymen could give. He was the 
child of splendid opportunities which came to him unsought, for 
which he never seemed to care, and which he met with calm as- 
surance of his own capacity. He rode upon the turmoil which 
had tossed him to its top serenely confident in his ability to guide 
gigantic forces thrust into his hands. He saw his country reunited, 
well advanced upon a clearly marked and broadening road ; then 
willingly went back to private life, rich only in the opulence of 
fame, unspoiled, unfretted by regrets, and undisturbed by dreams. 

That this shy, silent man, after a humdrum life till middle 
age, should have beheld the span of his remaining years studded 
with triumphs and with tragedies offers a riddle to the student of 
his time. His mind was not attuned to notions of retreat, of in- 
direction, or diplomacy. He thought straightforward and was free 
from artifice — rare qualities which stood him well in war and in 
most great executive emergencies, but were ill fitted to the sinu- 
ous ways of peace, the strategy of politics, the mysteries of high 

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finance, the subtle schemes of courtiers and dishonest satellites. 
And so it is that both as President and as private citizen the 
record of his truly great achievements is soiled with pages we 
would tear out if we could. Yet we should hate to lose the last 
heroic chapter, ev^en though a sordid prelude is indispensable to 
the complete disclosure of unstained nobility of soul. 

In what I have to say to you to-night I want to dwell on a few 
incidents which may throw light upon Grant's contradictory career, 
and most of which no doubt are known to you. 

He went to West Point only because his father figured that 
would be the cheapest way for him to get an education. There 
was no lure for him in bugle call or roll of drums. He served 
throughout the war in Mexico ; drudged for four years in barracks ; 
then quit the army, somewhat in disgrace ; farmed in Missouri ; 
failed at that ; tried real estate and failed at that ; clerked in the 
St. Louis Custom House, and was dismissed ; tried other things 
and failed in all ; then worked a while for his two brothers in Ga- 
lena. He never earned more than $i,ooo in any single year, 
sometimes much less. He hoped in time to be a partner in his 
younger brother's store. 

And then came Sumter and the call for troops ! After the 
years of failure his opportunity was there at last — and so was he ! 

You all know how he trained the local company, refused its 
captaincy, and went to Springfield to see if there was anything 
which he could do ; how he worked a while at filling order blanks 
and helped to drill raw companies of country boys, but being bred 
a soldier would not seek political endorsements for a chance to 
fight. 

He told the Governor he didn't care for rank till he had earned 
it. "What kind of a fellow is this Captain Grant.?" the Gov- 

(5) 



crnor asked one who knew him in Galena. " He evidently would 
like to serve but he wont try for any high position. What dins he 
want .?" "The way to handle him," was the reply, " is to ask him 
no questions, but simply order him to duty. He will obey." 
Then Governor Yates wired Grant, who had already gone away 
from Springfield, " You are this day appointed Colonel of the 21st 
Illinois Regiment." Grant answered simply: "I accept," and 
hurried back to take his new command. 

McClellan, some years younger, was already Major General, 
the hero of the Northern press who were proclaiming him a new 
Napoleon. Lee, " Light Horse " Harry's son, sprung from an an- 
cient line of landed aristocracy — regarded as the finest soldier on 
the continent — had refused command of all the Union forces and 
was at the head of the Confederate army. Grant, plainly born, 
unknown and friendless, so poorly off that he was forced to pledge 
his salary in advance to buy a uniform, was colonel of a ragged 
regiment months after the beginning of the combat of which he 
was to be the most gigantic figure in the end. 

Where, until now, are we to find a more bewildering picture 
of the vicissitudes of war .? 

And always from the day that he was drilling country boys at 
Springfield up to the hour he stood with Lee at Appomattox he 
was the same straightforward, unpretentious citizen. He never 
asked for recognition or for rank. He never envied those who 
served with him or whom he served. He never failed in generosity 
toward those who fought for him or whom he fought. He rose 
from rank to rank without his scheming it in face of hindrances 
which would have baffled a designing man but which he seemed 
to overcome merely by overlooking them. 

While McClellan in Virginia at the head of his great army had 
all eyes fi.xed upon his futile marchings back and forth, fate set 

(6) 



Grant down in Cairo with a detached command at the one key by 
pressing- which the forces could be set in motion to surround and 
crush the armies of the South. For Cairo was the southern tip of 
Illinois and there the waters of the Middle West were joined to 
form the Mississippi, cutting the South in two, yet giving to the 
South so long as she could hold its banks a great strategical ad- 
vantage which Federal successes in the east could hardly overcome. 
Right here Grant's common sense — his substitute for genius 
— came in play. While others were of course aware that seizing 
points near where the rivers joined would be a step toward splitting 
the Confederacy, Grant saw the vital need of doing it at once with 
just the weapons in his hand before the South could mobilize her 
forces to confirm her hold. He thus achieved what others merely 
dreamed, translating into terms of conquest the cry which sounded 
through the armies of the west: "The rebels have closed the 
Mississippi ; we must cut our way through to the Gulf by sword ! " 
Forts Donelson and Henry, on the Cumberland and Tennessee, 
only twelve miles apart where those two streams run parallel not 
far southeast of Cairo, marked the northern bound of the Confed- 
eracy ; and Grant with military intuition saw that this was the one 
point to strike in order to push back the first line of the South's 
defense. Swiftly, without waiting for instructions, he seized first 
Henry and then Donelson. Indented at its peak the enemy's de- 
fensive line along the whole stretch from the Mississippi to the 
Alleghenies crumbled like a shell ; the Union front was thrust 
miles nearer to the Gulf, the South was pressed back to its second 
line which ran from Memphis east through Chattanooga to eastern 
Tennessee. As the North saw one place and then another fall, it 
seemed like wizardry. But it was just what Grant had planned 
and what all military experts knew must follow, when once Fort 
Donelson was in our hands. There were more men at Donelson 

(7) 



than ever fought before upon our soil. It was the first substantial 
victory for the Union forces after nine months of pompous prepar- 
ation and defeat. Grant, who had been unknown the week before 
outside his own department, was in a flash the military idol of the 
hour. While in the East our generals were paralyzed by strategy, 
out of the West had sprung a victory, a hero and a battle cry ! 
Grant without planning it had sent a message which electrified the 
North. " No terms except an unconditional and immediate sur- 
render can be accepted. I propose to move immediately upon 
your works." 

It is a fascinating task to trace Grant's progress on the map 
and watch his grim pursuit of the Confederate forces in the West, 
seizing their strongholds one by one, smashing successively each 
line of their defense, tightening the coils around the enemy, elim- 
inating as a factor to be reckoned with all territory save Virginia, 
all armies save that under Lee. Yet Halleck and McClellan clouded 
his first victory in punishment and every later triumph had for its 
prologue or its epilogue an angry chorus of impatience and abuse. 

I shall not give a catalogue of battles. Let others better 
versed in military lore discuss details of strategy for which Grant 
had himself but little use. War as a game had no attractions for 
him. His meagre library had no military books. He studied 
tactics only for the task in hand. " I never maneuver," he once 
said to Meade ; and, to another officer, " The art of war is simple 
enough. Find out where your enemy is ! Get at him as soon as 
you can 1 Strike at him as hard as you can, and keep moving on!" 
Grant never was concerned about the opposition, considered only 
what he had to do himself, assumed the forces of the enemy would 
be as frightened as his own. " I am a smarter man than Grant," 
.said Sherman. "I know a great deal more about war and about 

(8) 



everything else than he does ; but I'll tell you where he beats me 
and where he beats the world. I am always worrying about what 
the enemy is going to do. Grant never gives a damn ! " 

Of all Grant's battles Shiloh is the one in most dispute. But 
this is undisputed — that, however badly it was planned and though 
the loss in men was great, it marked a striking Federal advance and 
swept the armies of the Southwest back toward their last stand at 
Vicksburg. 

Buell, landing on the river bank where stragglers huddled by 
the thousand the evening of the first disastrous day, asked Grant 
about his preparations for retreat and Grant replied that he had not 
had time to think of such a thing. " I know," said Buell, " but if 
you should be whipped, how will you get your men across the river? 
These transports will not take more than ten thousand troops ! " 
"If I hav«e to retreat," came the response, " ten thousand will be as 
many as I shall need transports for." 

• After the costly victory at Shiloh, Grant underwent a cruel 
test of loyalty and patience. He could have been in hardly worse 
repute had he betrayed his country. Halleck lumbered to the 
front, belittled him and laid him on the shelf, " second in rank " 
with merely nominal authority, subject to daily slights before the 
eyes of his own army. A storm of hot denunciation broke upon 
him. The press was shrill with shrieks of " Butcher Grant 1 " In 
Congress, Harlan cried out in debate that those who kept him in 
command would " carry on their skirts the blood of thousands of 
their slaughtered countrymen." 

But Lincoln, who had never seen him, knew this of him, — 
which was not true of many — that he won battles, made no ex- 
cuses or complaints, and never was involved in petty schemes to 
injure others or advance himself. So Lincoln said to those who 

(9) 



called for Grant's removal : " I can't spare this man ; he fights ! " 
" I rather like them an " he said, " I think we had better try him 
a little longer" and then he asked the brand of whiskey which Grant 
drank in order that he might send samples to his other generals. 
And through it all Grant held his poise. " I should scorn 
being my own defender against such attacks," he wrote to Wash- 
burne, "except through the record which has been kept of all my 
official acts." And to old Jesse Grant he wrote: " I am sure I 
have but one desire in this war and that is to put down the re- 
bellion. One enemy at a time is enough, and when he is subdued 
it will be time enough to settle personal differences." 

Grant would have marched right on to Vicksburg which was 
then feebly garrisoned, and would have taken it, but his superiors 
had other plans ; and when at last he had command again, time 
had been given the Confederate forces to recuperate. It took him 
a full year to make the ground which had been lost. And yet in 
spite of everything he kept on doggedly, trying one plan and then 
another, but always pushing on. He was on trial in Washington. 
Discontent was spreading through the North, discouraged by the 
months of dreary waiting west and east, and by reverses in Vir- 
ginia. It was a dark hour for the Union cause. 

Then he made up his mind to do a daring thing — to run the 
Vicksburg batteries and land his forces on the southern side, cutt- 
ing his army boldly from its base and hazarding the future on a 
march through hostile territory from which there could be no re- 
treat. Sherman and the other generals advised against it and 
Sherman wrote him a sharp letter to prevent it if he could ; but 
Grant had made his mind up that it should be done. 

How he landed with his army on the southern side ; how in 
a flash he seized Port Gibson and with only three days' rations, 

( 10) 



cutting loose from base, struck north for Vicksburg, feeding his 
army off the country as he rushed from fight to fight ; how he cut 
Vicksburg off from its supphes ; how in eighteen days he marched 
two hundred miles, won five pitched battles, took 8000 prisoners, 
scattered a hostile army larger than his own, and had the enemy 
locked up in Vicksburg, is a tale whose mere recital emblazons the 
chronicles of war. "This is a campaign," cried Sherman as he 
rode out with Grant and looked down on the bluffs where he had 
been repulsed five months before. " Until this moment I "never 
thought your movement a success. But this is a success even if 
we never take the town ! " 

Even those who censured Grant now had to own the flawless- 
ness of a campaign which has not been surpassed in history, and 
which belonged exclusively to Grant, not only in the whole but in 
its thousands of details ; while Lincoln sent that gleaming note of 
thanks which ends : " I now wish to make the personal acknowl- 
edgment that you were right and I was wrong." After the town 
had fallen Grant handed back to Sherman silently the letter Sher- 
man wrote against his plan, and never later spoke of it to him or 
anybody else. The knightly friendship of these men plays like a 
ray of sunlight upon the clouded face of civil war. 

Though Grant's career had ended then, his fame was safe, for 
subsequent defeat could not have spoiled the record of his high 
achievement. No matter what had gone before or what might 
happen after Vicksburg, he now had confidence in his own destiny. 
He felt that he would be the one to bring the war to a successful 
end. Vicksburg had been before his eye at Cairo and it had now 
come honestly to him at last among the great array of Union gen- 
erals who had in the beginning more prestige. He had cleared up 
the Mississippi from Cairo to the Gulf. It was the successful 

CO 



culmination of our first grand strategy and men began to think of 
Grant as first among our generals. 

And now a greater opportunity was at his hand. The southern 
line had been pushed east as far as Chattanooga, and Rosecrans 
was cooped up there after his rout at Chickamauga, strongly en- 
trenched but cut off from supplies by Bragg whose eager army 
held the hills above the town. Food and fuel were getting scarce, 
his horses starving, winter coming on. His idle army was demor- 
alized and he seemed dazed. He must be superseded in order to 
escape a great catastrophe. So Stanton made a new division com- 
prising the whole middle south and west, and placed Grant in 
command. Grant rushed toward Chattanooga over swollen roads, 
relieving Rosecrans while on the way and putting Thomas in his 
place. 

A swift change came with his arrival. "That night," says 
Horace Porter, " after sitting absolutely silent for a while listen- 
ing attentively to what the others said and following on the map 
the disposition of the troops, he straightened in his chair and 
began firing questions at his new subordinates, pertinent, incisive, 
comprehensive. . . . He was as always eager to push on." Then 
turning to a table he wrote dispatches for an hour ; and the next 
night again he wrote dispatches rapidly with his own hand, dispos- 
ing troops throughout his new command, summoning Sherman, 
Hooker and his other generals and planning to cut through a 
" cracker line " to Nashville for supplies. Within five days there 
was no further danger of starvation or surrender or retreat. He 
could hold the town all winter or till reinforcements should arrive. 

And then there broke for Grant the most resplendent day of 
his career. He had no thought of holding Chattanooga with hos- 
tile guns surveying him complacently from neighboring heights. 

( 12 ) 



He waited only until Sherman should arrive from Mississippi and 
Hooker from the East. Then he leaped out at the enemy. The 
three days' fight of Chattanooga is the most completely planned of 
all his battles — a feat unmarred in its perfection and as a spectacle 
unequalled in the history of war. The secrecy and skill of the 
preliminary strategy, the military panorama with its sublime scenic 
setting unrolled before the eyes of Grant and Thomas, posted on 
Orchard Knob, watching their armies in glittering pageant, march 
to undimmed success, the glimpse of Hooker and his men fighting 
"above the clouds," the marvelous charge of Sheridan and Wood 
with nearly twenty thousand bayonets up to the very top of Mission- 
ary Ridge, mowing the enemy like wheat, the panic-stricken flight 
of Bragg's astonished troops, the frantic joy and tumult of the vic- 
torious Union army as Grant rode down the lines, blend in a battle 
picture with no parallel. 

Knoxville was saved at Chattanooga and eastern Tennessee 
was cleared. The coils were pressing tighter upon Lee. A stir of 
the inevitable ran through the North. 

It was at once proposed that Grant be made Lieutenant Gen- 
eral, but when Grant learned of it he wrote to Washburne who had 
introduced a bill : " I feel under many obligations to you but rec- 
ollect that I have been highly honored already by the Government, 
and do not ask or feel that I deserve anything more in the shape 
of honors or promotions. A success over the enemy is what I 
crave above everything else." But notwithstanding this the bill 
was passed. Lincoln gave Grant the rank and he was General-in- 
Chief of all the armies of the United States. 

Before Grant left for Washington to take command he did a 
gracious and great-hearted thing. He wrote to Sherman a letter 
which will live as long as his and Sherman's memories endure : 

(13) 



"What I want is to express my thanks to you and McPherson as 
the men to whom, above all others, I feel indebted for whatever I 
have had of success. How far your advice and assistance have 
been of help to me, you know, how far your execution of whatever 
has been given to you to do entitles you to the reward I am receiv- 
ing, you cannot know as well as I." 

And here is Sherman's generous reply : " You do McPherson 
and myself too much honor. At Belmont you manifested your 
traits, neither of us being near. At Donelson, also, you illustrated 
your whole character. I was not near, and McPherson in too sub- 
ordinate a capacity to influence you. ... I believe you are as 
brave, patriotic, and just as the great prototype, Washington ; as 
unselfish, kindhearted, and honest as a man should be ; but the 
chief characteristic is the simple faith in success you have always 
manifested, which I can liken to nothing else than the faith the 
Christian has in the Saviour. This faith gave you victory at Shiloh 
and Vicksburg. Also, when you have completed your best prep- 
arations, you go into battle without hesitation, as at Chattanooga 
— no doubts, no reserve, — and I tell you, it was this that made 
us act with confidence. I knew, wherever I was, that you thought 
of me ; and if I got in a tight place you would come — if alive." 

Grant's coming to the Capital which he had never seen was 
like him. No one met him. No one knew him. He had no staff. 
A short and slight stoop-shouldered man, in rusty uniform, walked 
to the desk at the hotel and registered, "U. S. Grant and Son, 
Galena, Illinois." That was all. But it was always so with him ; 
for even in his greatest moments he was devoid of pride. He was 
a marvel of simplicity, his manner plain and placid, almost meek. 
He had no military bearing, when walking pitched along as though 
another step might plunge him forward on his nose ; and as he 

( '4 ) 



had no sense of rhythm never marched or paid the least attention 
to the music of the bands. 

And yet there was another side, for while his utterance was 
slow, sometimes embarrassed, he used well chosen words which 
never left the slightest doubt of what he meant to say. He was 
singularly pure, in thought, in habit and in speech. His voice was 
musical, distinct, low, vibrant, penetrating. His sharp cut mouth 
expressive both of strength and sweetness was set at times with a 
rigidity like that of fate. He discussed ordinary themes with in- 
terest and turned from them without a shade of difference in tone 
or manner to decisions which involved the fate of armies, of him- 
self or of the state. In planning he could not be hurried. In his 
conclusions he could not be moved. In battle he was swift, de- 
cisive and unerring, ruthless as flame. 

This was the new chief of all the Union forces in command of 
more than half a million men who, setting out upon his last cam- 
paign to crush the armies of the South and bring an end to war, 
bore with him to the front these parting words from Lincoln : " I 
wish to express in this way my entire satisfaction with what you 
have done up to this time, so far as I understand it. The particu- 
lars of your plans I neither know nor seek to know. You are vig- 
ilant and self-reliant ; and, pleased with this, I wish not to obtrude 
any constraints or restraints upon you. If there is anything want- 
ing which is within my power to give, do not fail to let me know. 
And now with a brave army and a just cause, may God sustain 
you." 

" It shall be my earnest endeavor that you and the country 
shall not be disappointed," was Grant's reply. "Should my success 
be less than I desire or expect, the least I can say is, the fault is 
not with you." 



( 15) 



It has been said that for the North the war began with Get- 
tysburg and Vicksburg. Till then the time was spent in training 
generals and armies and picking the right man to lead. Campaigns 
had been haphazard, a summer's fighting and a winter's rest, a 
victory or defeat — and then withdrawal to recuperate. There had 
been no comprehensive military plan, no fixed and certain aim. 

But now there came a change. The task Grant set himself 
was to destroy Lee's army. That done, rebellion must disinte- 
grate. With Lee eliminated the Confederacy would crumble of 
itself. To occupy the Southern Capital had sentimental value, 
but in Grant's plan it was subordinate, not the main purpose of his 
strategy. "On to Richmond!" had been the Northern cry till 
Grant's arrival. After he came the aim was to get Lee. " Lee's 
army will be your objective point," he ordered Meade. " Wher- 
ever Lee goes, you will go also." When once Lee should capitu- 
late, Richmond must also fall. With Lee at large his tent was 
the real heart of the Confederacy. 

The two days' battle of the Wilderness with its ghastly toll 
brought home to Grant the horror of the path in which his feet 
were set. It was a bitter test of fibre. Disaster never pressed 
him quite so hard. But he could not turn back. Lee with his 
hard fought forces for a third time lay near the Rapidan facing a 
hostile army on its southern side. He had twice seen the Army 
of the Potomac, once under Pope, once under Hooker, pushed 
back across the stream, but now he saw an enemy which had 
failed to break his lines crouched for another spring. Grant in 
the opening encounter, disastrous though it seemed, had forced 
his army forward and held his advance. He had lost heavily, but 
Lee had suffered more. 

The next night without a rest Grant grimly headed South. 
As he rode in the dusk in silence along his shattered ranks, his 

( '6) 



worn and wounded soldiers saw which way his face was turned 
and rose up from the ground with cheers. This mute assurance 
of immediate advance, after their long acquaintance with retreat, 
inspired them with a trust in their new chief which held them to 
the end. " I shall take no backward steps," Grant wrote to Hal- 
leck. For thirty days he hammered at the enemy, rained heavy 
blows upon Lee's head ; hurled his men frequently against Lee's 
weakening lines, defied the rules of war by frontal charges on the 
enemy intrenched, costing both armies dearly in the toll of wounds 
and death. Lee was forced backward step by step on Richmond, 
returning blow for blow, the two contending armies leaving a trail 
of carnage along the dreadful road. " I propose to fight it out on 
this line if it takes all summer," Grant had said, and he kept 
fighting on. 

For Lee it was a new and strange experience. This master 
in the artistry of war now found his match in one less skilled in 
tactics but stronger in offense and in tenacity. No matter how 
he played his tempered sword, no matter how he turned and 
stepped with faultless strategy, there stood Grant facing him like 
a decree of Fate. 

Then came the swift and silent march around Lee's flank for 
fifty miles across the James toward Petersburg, the watch at City 
Point, the siege of Petersburg, the gloomy summer months which 
were the darkest of the war, the fixing of a day of prayer, the hor- 
rified appeal that Grant be superseded by McClellan, and Lincoln's 
telegram to Grant who said he did not want to break his hold: 
" Neither am I willing. Hold on with a bull-dog grip and chew 
and choke as much as possible." And then the last swift blow 
was struck by Sheridan, Lee's men filed out of Petersburg by 
night, and Davis fled from Richmond. 



( 17) 



To Richmond Lincoln went from Petersburg ; not Grant, for 
Grant was busy following the enemy in their retreat until at last 
he asked for their surrender. And then Grant came to Appomattox 
Court House and entered the brick dwelling where Lee and his 
great hour awaited him. 

The story has been written many times, but no American can 
weary of its telling. Lee, dressed immaculately in a uniform of 
gray which emphasized his faultless bearing and his noble form ; 
Grant, in a private's blouse, soiled with much riding, on which were 
sewn the shoulder straps simply to let his soldiers know his rank ; 
Lee, carrying a handsome sword, but Grant with none. 

Grant talked awhile of ordinary things, ignoring the moment- 
ous theme that brought them there and gently leaving that for 
Lee to introduce, — about old army times, service in Mexico, where 
he was a subaltern and Lee Scott's chief of staff — till Lee, remind- 
ing him that they had business in hand, said he had asked the in- 
terview to learn the terms it was proposed to give. Then, turning 
to a table. Grant wrote as he was wont to write, swiftly and clearly 
without erasure, not knowing when he took his pen what the first 
word would be but knowing what was in his mind and wishing to 
express it unmistakably, those terms the chivalry of which enshrines 
the record of our Civil War. 

Then Lee went out, and as he passed the aids who had been 
waiting on the steps arose respectfully. He did not seem to notice 
them, but looking over the green valley toward his surrendered 
army he smote his hands abstractedly until his orderly led up his 
horse. He took the bridle. Grant walked by and touched his hat 
and Lee, returning the salute in silence, rode back to his own lines, 
then home to lay aside his uniform. 

That afternoon (irant wired to SUmton three bare lines inform- 

(.8) 



ing him of Lee's surrender. When his men learned what had been 
done, they would have fired salutes but they were stopped by Grant. 
He would not add to the distress of a defeated foe. He did not 
set his f oof in RicJivwnd. 

Thus the war ended, a gentle spirit pervading the spent 
armies North and South, due in chief measure to the generosity of 
Grant, who shortly after received his army's salutation in the solemn 
pageant of the Grand Review, crowned with the glory of his 
country's gratitude. 

Here if the tale should end to many it might seem complete, 
yet it would only half be told. For we must bear in mind that 
Grant had two distinct careers, each in its own right meriting a 
place in history. With one of them biographers have not been nig- 
gardly. What they have written has enriched his fame ; but with 
the other they have been less kind. It has not been the literary 
fashion to commend him much for his achievements after Appo- 
mattox ; yet his success as an E.xecutive in time of peace is hardly 
less significant than his success in war. This Club remembers him 
to-night not altogether as a soldier, but as a great Republican and 
President. 

At the crest of his renown Grant found himself in Washing- 
ton encumbered with high military rank but shorn of power. He 
had to deal in strange surroundings with politicians whom he did 
not know, struggling with questions altogether new. Sumner, 
Stevens, Wade and Butler were forcing on the South the tragic 
blunder of universal suffrage for the newly liberated slaves ; John- 
son was besmirching his ill-fated term ; and in an atmosphere 
of passion and intrigue Grant, after forty years obscurity and four 
years in camp, had his first taste of politics. 

When he was named for President he added as an afterthought 
to his brief letter of acceptance : " Let us have Peace." These 

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words became a motto ; but through his term he had no peace 
himself. Sumner quarreled with him, at first on San Domingo,, 
then on Motley, finally on every other question that arose ; and 
others with more sentiment than knowledge of conditions adopted 
Sumner's view largely because of his prestige. 

Had Sumner been of different temper things would have been 
quite otherwise, and so they might if Grant had had more skill in 
handling men of various sorts; but Sumner notwithstanding his 
nobility of purpose was morally superior in manner, rhetorical and 
\'ain, while Grant though tolerant and sane was lacking in a hum- 
orous touch which Lincoln had and which enabled Lincoln to make 
allowance for divergent tastes. Sumner had disapproved of Lin- 
coln, as now he disapproved of Grant, and was a thorn in Lincoln's 
side ; but Lincoln had political sagacity combined with diplomatic 
skill, while Grant with all his magnanimity had little social sense or 
tact. It was impossible for him to do what Lincoln did in making 
use of men of Sumner's kind. 

Grant has been blamed for letting Motley go ; but Motley 
was a writer, not a diplomat. He was a hindrance to negotiations 
in which he should have been an aid. Events have justified Grant's 
policy toward San Domingo, although the manner of his handling 
it may have been wrong. And so with other things which Sumner 
made much of. The record shows that Sumner viewed Grant's con- 
duct through distorted eyes. Yet Sumner's unjust prejudice has 
colored history, because the men most close to Grant were not in 
the good graces of the literary craftsmen upon whom has devolved 
the writing of the story of the time. 

Grant liked and trusted Conkling, Chandler, Logan, Morton, 
whose faults were manly faults, because he was himself a manly 
man. Although they were not always nice in method they were 

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straightforward, honest and constructive. They did not deal in 
visions, nor did he. They were Hke him in having no pet theories. 
They were intensely loyal. So was he. They were primarily Re- 
publicans, and so was he. He could not comprehend the mental 
attitude of men like Godkin, Bryant, Schurz and Bowles, who all 
had high ideals but were without constructive force and had no 
sense of personal or party fealty in politics. They could not work 
together much among themselves ; how could they hope to work 
with him .-' They could not see that though he had not much to 
say he had progressive and far-reaching policies ; that while their 
microscopic eyes were hunting blemishes he was forever pushing on. 

Grant did not seek the easy fame which comes to the crusader ; 
he had no mission to reform the ways of other men. As President 
he kept about him those he liked, nor can we blame the faith with 
which he clung to them. 

" Grant was the only man I ever knew," says Sniffen who 
was eight years at his side, " upon whose promise you could safely 
go to sleep. He never failed to keep his word even in the smallest 
things. If once he pledged himself you could dismiss it from your 
mind, and travel round the world. It would be done." This trait 
of constancy contributed to his success, but sometimes brought him 
bitterness of soul. He had the unsuspecting chivalry of friendship ; 
throughout his life his sympathy went out to those he thought the 
victims of injustice; his instinct was to shield them from attack. 
In the grim chase of justice his heart ran with the fox, not with 
the hounds. 

For eight tumultuous years he guided the Republic with a 
steady hand and at the end of his administration the United States 
stood higher in the estimation of the world than it had ever stood 
before. Those eight years mark a great constructive period in our 
history — the greatest since the day of Hamilton and Washing- 

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ton ; and ever since we have been building our prosperity on the 
foundations which Grant laid. 

"His services attest his greatness," Conkling said. "His 
fame was earned, not by things written but by the arduous 
greatness of things done." He upheld our national credit and 
guarded our national honor ; sustained our dignity and main- 
tained our rights. He vetoed the Inflation Bill and put through 
the Resumption Act. To him immeasurably more than any 
other man is due the fact that every paper dollar is as good as 
gold. He stood for a Protective Tariff and a great Merchant 
Marine. He was the first of all our Presidents to recognize the 
principle of Civil Service Reform, the first to sound a warning 
against the peril of an ignorant electorate. He greatly reduced 
the national debt and lowered the national taxes. He had a 
strong, far-seeing foreign policy. In the midst of difficulties he 
kept peace with all the world. He was firm with Spain, with 
Mexico, with France, with England, respecting no distinction be- 
tween weak and powerful governments where national honor was 
at stake. 

Throughout Grant's term our country held high rank among 
the nations of the earth ; and an American could count with cer- 
tainty on their respect. We then stood higher in the world's re- 
gard than at any other moment since the government began. And 
finally to his unflinching fairness was largely due the peaceful set- 
tlement of the succession, when vacillation in the White House 
would have brought on Civil War. 

Divested of his rank and office he found himself once more the 
looming figure of his time. The venom of attack was dissipated 
with the loss of power. There was no more talk of Caesarism, 
nepotism or corruption. The folly of the first was obvious, now 
that the " Caesar " pictured by the party press had gone back 

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cheerfully to private life. The silliness of the attacks on nepotism 
was manifest now that the little flock of office holding relatives 
found their petty titles and emolument at the disposal of a Presi- 
dent on whom they had no claim. As for corruption and gift 
taking, here was Grant at the close of si.xteen years of public ser- 
vice, in such financial straits that he was puzzled how to get along. 
He made his tour around the world and was received as the 
most famous living general, personifying in the eyes of Europe 
the marvel of democracy. He talked with Bismarck and Von 
Moltke, Gambetta, Gortschakoff and Castelar, with kings and 
queens and emperors, the Czar, the Pope, and then came home in 
personal triumph to political defeat. 

We come now to the closing page of his career, — the dismal 
tragedy of his adventure into high finance, the sordid scheming of 
the scoundrel Ward. Grant, lured by specious promises, unconsci- 
ous of impending fate, was looking forward to prosperity in his 
remaining years. Surrounded by his family and trophies he plan- 
ned to end his days in profitable ease. He had no public cares or 
aspirations, no lingering restlessness for power ; his skies were 
clear of clouds ; he was content. 

One morning, when he limped into the office of his firm, 
he was stunned by his son's greeting : " Grant & Ward have 
failed and Ward has fled ! " He turned away without a word, 
ascended slowly to his private room and late that afternoon the 
cashier found him sitting there, close to his desk, clasping his 
chair convulsively, head bowed. Everything he thought he owned 
was swept away. He could not buy a meal. He was too proud 
and silent to ask for credit then. 

Stripped of his livelihood, harassed by debts, chagrined by 
failure, smarting under unjust stings, feeble in body, with age 
creeping on. Grant faced the world. And yet his bitterness of soul 

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was sanctified. His bearing in adversity beatified him in the 
world's regard. 

It developed that he had a hopeless malady. His life thence- 
forward was a fight with death. For months he could not lie in 
bed, but sat propped up in chairs, suffering excruciating pain. 
And yet in spite of this he set about his Memoirs and grimly 
turned to his new, unfamiliar task. He would complete his work 
for his own sake, his family, and those to whom he was in debt. 
But when there came the verdict that he could not recover, he was 
in mental agony ; not that he had to die, but that he might not 
live till he cleared his name. 

Let us not prolong the story. Its plain recital cuts one like 
a knife. He kept at work upon his book, dictating when he could 
not speak above a whisper, more often pencilling his sentences on 
pads. The passages he wrote in the last weeks were just and 
lucid. They read so simply that we can hardly realize how every 
paragraph was drenched in pain. He did not drop his pencil till 
his life's work was done. 

Here let us leave a man who had no worse fault than his 
honest innocence ; who had few greater virtues than the loyalty 
for which he was most harshly blamed ; whose triumphs had their 
root in suffering and whose misfortunes sprang from his success ; 
who, loving peace, drank deep of war, and with its bitter dregs 
baptized anew the peace he loved ; who, unstirred by self seeking, 
was glorified through loss of self in a great aim ; and who though 
humbly born and unaspiring walks in the noble march of history 
ahead of kings. 



Printed by the Middlesex Club through the courtesy of Houghton Mifflin Com- 
jjany, Publishers of " Uly.sses S. Grant," by Louis A. Coolidge, American Statesmen 
Series, 1917. 

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